Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow
by ChangeOfPlans
Summary: Are you tired of stories where the helpless damsel who falls for Jack turns into the ultimate super pirate, with sword skill to rival Will at his best and Capt. Sparrow with his knowledge of the seas? Tired of tragic histories...UPDATED!
1. Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

Welcome Back Jack Sparrow

Are you tired of stories where the helpless damsel who falls for Jack turns into the ultimate super pirate, with sword skill to rival Will at his best and Capt. Sparrow with his knowledge of the seas? Tired of tragic histories and drawn out tales of revenge? Ready for a more realistic love story, with there is nothing long hidden or some greatly rare trait/skill with the girl and not all the men in the world seem to be after her? Then this is the story for you -- a romance between Captain Jack Sparrow and a woman who is as realistic as you. Pairing J/OC. Post DMC -- Contains SPOILERS

Hopefully you won't find it too cliché.

READ:

Sorry everyone for the LONG delay in continuing the story. I had major technical problems with my computer and so sent it in to get fixed. When I got it back I got lazy and hadn't gotten around to updating obviously.

So here's the deal—I edited the three chapters I had up and made a few touch up likes grammar mistakes, bad wording and under thought ideas. Feel free to go straight to chapter 2 if you already read the other ones. It's the same basic idea still.

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor pretend to own anything affiliate with Disney including the POTC characters, as much as that breaks my heart.

Author's Note: This is my last warning, anything past this point may or may not contain SPOILERS from DMC and if you HAVE NOT SEEN IT I DO NOT RECOMMEND READING FURTHER!

For the rest of you, please carry on—

This obviously takes places after DMC. I will not even pretend to know what it going to happen in movie three. I am personally dying to see how Will plans on reacting to dear Elizabeth after her betrayal, but that is another story I may or may not cover.

This is a slightly alternate reality fic where Jack does not die via the Kraken. He survives, injured and in terrible shape, but not dead. I am aware it is a bit of a stretch but I think I might be allowed a small creative license considering Disney can get away with having someone literally cut out their heart.

Also, this is my first fic, therefore any and all advice welcome.

If it makes any one feel safer though, I abhor Mary-Sues and guarantee I will never intentionally create one.

If any of that bothers you, then do not continue.

Anyone else…

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

"Not so bad," he muttered.

Captain Jack Sparrow smirked at the so called 'beastie' that was the Kraken after he replaced his at long last found hat. "Hello beastie," he addressed the legendary creature, taking his sword as he faced it head on with a scream and aimed for its mouth.

He had slashed at the fearsome thing as his ship fell out from under his feet, sharp teeth all around him. His sword had met flesh, blood – it just sounded pissed.

But then, he had to go down with a fight, he was after all Captain Jack Sparrow! Another puncture, thick ooze surrounded him as he stabbed again and again, the sharp teeth of the sea-creature tearing at his own flesh as he worked.

Pain, blood, ooze – fuzzy, everything was becoming a blur. Everything unfocused… 'Is this death?' He wondered. 'A bit disappointing really' were his last thoughts as a cool wetness surrounded him and everything went black.

Some distance away, a young woman was walking along the sandy beach, a basket of wooden plates, cups and utensils held in her pale hands. She paused, breathing in the salty air she had grown up by, smiling as the wind ripped pieces of her black hair from its leather binding.

She loved to be near the sea, it was something she had always learned to associate with her home, though she never dared to venture in it by boat. She furthest she had ever gotten was waist deep.

"A beautiful day," she spoke to herself. "And here I've nothing to do." She added sarcastically, looking down at her load.

Her father, the owner of the Charlton Inn, had sent her to wash the grudge from the dishes. It was something she did at least three times a day, though there was harder work to be done, so she couldn't complain she supposed.

It was simple enough really, walk into the surf, get on your knees and use the sand to scrub away whatever might stick.

No wonder all the food at her father's inn had a salty appeal. Most people did the process with fresh water, but what was one to do when they lived near the sea and the closest lake or river was miles away? Any fresh water they bought was preserved for customer use only.

Setting to work, she walked into the surf, pulled up the skirts of her simple dress, and knelt down. She cursed under her breath as despite her careful tucking, the ends of her dress became heavy with the salt water.

After some fifteen minutes of cleaning, she was in the process of scrubbing another plate when something slightly off shore caught her eye. "What in the worl…" she started the mutter, her hand becoming lax in her lack of attention.

A wave pulled the dish free and she snapped back to attention. "Damn it," she growled, groping into the surf for the lost object. That was three this week, and her parents were bound to notice their ware dwindling down in number eventually.

But still…her curiosity was drawn. She scanned the ocean, eyes spotting the dark mass once more.

Making sure the basket was safely away from the surf, she ventured out into the lapsing waves, setting her eyes on her target. Lord what washed up now.

She swiped for it but missed which caused her to frown. "Come here you pesky little thing," she ordered it as though that would make it listen.

She grabbed at it again, almost lunging for it as a wave hit her from behind.

She was plunged face first into the waters and came up seconds later sputtered and coughing, her nostrils burning. Blinking rapidly to clear the salt content from her eyes, she felt a victorious smile framing her face.

She got it, whatever it was.

Vision cleared, she looked down at the object in hand and it turned out to be…

A frown replaced her smile. "I went through all of that for a beat up leather hat?" Sighing, she shrugged, placing it on her head; might as well make use of it.

Turning back to the beach, she started the tedious task of trying to walk back to shore. It occurred to her she must have drifted a bit in her attempt as her basket was now a small ways to her left and before her was…

"Oh dear," she muttered, her hand flying to her mouth as she realized a man was lying limply on the beach.

She made her way slowly forward, knowing full well he had to have come from the sea which might be a good indication of that being nothing more then a corpse.

When she finally made the shore, she stepped cautiously onto the beach and nearer to the body. If it was alive, he may or may not be a threat. But still…

She studied it, nay him. He might have been an interesting man to see in action, his tanned skin blanched by sickness, his dark hair a matted resemblance of a knotted wig, his clothes those of a seaman no doubt. But the question was did he still live?

Kneeling at his side, she almost smiled to herself as for the first time she noticed the open mouth and the breath being forced to exhale and inhale. Lucky devil, he was alive yet.

She reached over, her fingers searching his throat for his pulse. It was weak, but there nonetheless.

Of course then she came upon a dilemma: what should she do with this beached man? Inform her family and see if her father would lodge him at the inn? Leave him be? Perhaps care for him in secret…

"Alright you bothersome brat," a male voice called across the beach. "I've called you three times already, where are you?"

She frowned, hearing her younger brother. Whatever she was going to do, she had best do it quick.

"Come on now, Mother sent you out here nearly two hours ago and you know how she worries."

"It has not been that long," she called back, thankful for the rocks that hid man as she stepped into view of her brother. "Aside, I'm almost done. I just got distracted."

"Obviously," he snorted. "Say, what's that you've got on your head?"

"What do you mea… oh!" She laughed, just remembering she had placed the hat on. It must belong to that man. Oh well, to late to hand it back now with family there. "I found it in the floating in the waves."

"And what have you to do with a man's hat?"

"Smile and remind you that you don't have one?" She grinned innocently, patting the leather hat with the flat of her hand to secure it tighter on her head. It was already a bit big and that only sent it further down.

"Oh come one."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm right behind you, bossy."

Her brother picked up her basket and waited for her to catch up. "I swear, can't you keep focused?" He teased good naturedly.

"Can you not lecture your older sister?" She shot back. _Guess I'll just have to leave him and if he's here tomorrow, I don't know what I'll do._ She sighed mentally, resigning herself to wait and see.

The Second Installment

_Still Alive_

Mid-day the afternoon that followed, she again found herself on the beach and her question unanswered. The man was still there, his breath labored. Without aid he was dead for sure.

He was covered in blood, something she had not noticed the day before, and deathly pale. There was no choice. She had to help him and hope for the best.

"Don't you dare die on me, you difficult man." She told him, almost irritable at the act she had decided to do of her own free well.

"You do know of course I have to hide you away now, like I can even move you." She huffed, trying to find the worse of his injuries. There were mainly gashes and cuts, ripped skin what looked as though something with a large amount of teeth might had got at him.

She, thankfully, had been clever enough to stash a few medical supplies in her basket and now put them to use to the best of her ability, namely cleaning what she could and wrapping and bandaging what injuries she could figure what to do with.

First things first though, she had to get him out of the surf. Wrapping her hands around his arms she pulled back, grunting at the effort his weight caused. She was sure the sand wasn't doing his injuries any good but at the same time it seemed to be the only thing to help.

With effort she finally managed to get him closer to the rock setting and released his arms with a sigh. Moving a grown man was no easy task. It was like having to drag dead weight in everything backward step and in sand that was no small feat.

Finally she knelt back by his side after moving her basket to her new location. She bit her lower lip, knowing she really needed to get to the check _all_ of his injuries, but that would involve removing his shirt and possibly, she blushed at the idea, part of his pants. Already she had struggled with the jacket and that was what was pillowing his head.

"You know, I'm glad you're not awake." She told him, finding talking somehow made everything easier and somehow less awkward. "Heavens knows what you'd say, some woman out and undressing like this. But understand it's for your own good."

As she spoke, she worked with what was left of his shirt and soon had his chest revealed. She gasped and put her hand at her mouth once more at the sight.

Jagged cuts ran the length of his abdomen as though lashed upon him continuously as he turned; there were also literal rips and tears in the skin, swelling, and puss filled skin surrounding some embedded marks.

Had she not seen him breathing with her eyes, she would have sworn he was dead.

"What kind of man you must be to survive this." She whispered in awe, holding silent respect for the man's strength.

After some time of work, the man was finally fully clothed once more and bandaged as she moved away extremely red faced. "All I know is, after all of that you had best live or I'll retrieve you from whatever heaven or hell you go to and re-kill you myself."

She had left the wrist bands and small things of that affect untouched. She had at the time, more urgent things to see to after all.

"Now comes the question, what do I do with you?" She sighed more to herself then the unconscious man. There was no way she was going to be able to move him and she had decided informing her family was defiantly out of the question.

With her luck that would result in her never seeing him again and as it was she was intrigued by the strange man. What with the trinkets in his hair, enough to drown him by their own weight she mused, his hair in and of itself, the jewelry and clothes.

He was a seaman to be sure; his clothing attested to that much. Being in the tavern half of any given day typically made her capable of such judgments.

She looked up, studying the clear skies. "Be happy. At least it doesn't look like a storm will be here anytime soon, but still, you probably know better than I how quickly that can change at sea."

The idea of dragging him anywhere else was impossible. For one, she was almost positive given the condition of his front his back was in similar condition and forced movement would only make it worse. Two, she doubted she had the strength to move him without spending almost all of the day doing it as he was larger then her. Three, most importantly, she had no where to drag him to. There was sand and more sand.

She would have to settle.

Finally, she cleaned her dishes and returned to the tavern only to return a few hours later with a new load, and new supplies tucked beneath it.

Included she had brought a large amount of woven cloth. She had intended to use it for making a new dress, but it was all she had that wouldn't be noticed amiss that she wouldn't need herself.

Combining that with some wood pieces she was able to make a sort of prop-to tent above him, using the rocks as a prop for balance. Some well placed rope secured it to remain up.

That was the good thing about being a woman. If nothing else, keeping cloth together and sewing was something taught since childhood. She had never been gladder for that skill then she was now.

Thankfully, anyone rarely came to this part of the beach but her so perhaps the make shift shelter would go unnoticed with the man beneath it.

If nothing else, he was at least safe now from being sun baked, hopefully somewhat cooler in the shade, and small drizzles of rain. She could only hope no major storms hit.

"You are a most difficult man, just so you know." She muttered to him, standing back to admire her handy work as her hand graced her head, holding the hat in place. She had been wearing it every time she left her home for personal amusement.

Approached again, she knelt down and dug into her supplies, having brought with her a small canteen of fresh water. It was a small amount and hopefully would not be missed.

Taking a clean rag she had tucked away into her bodice, she poured a small amount of the clean liquid on it and began wiping his sweaty brow, taking care to clean any make-up remains from his face. She thought the blues and greens certainly strange and stranger still was the black around his eyes.

When the cloth began to dry up, she wet it again, more generously this time and placed it over his chapped lips, squeeze so some of the cool water fell into his mouth. He was bound to be parched, unconscious or not, in the heat.

Once more she wet the rag and wrung its contents into his mouth.

Suddenly the sound of choking was heard as Jack awoke, having tried to take in air unaware of the water attempting to fill his lungs at the same time.

The girl jumped back with a startled yelp, her back meeting the cloth of her lean-to and pulling part of it down under her.

As a result, the entire thing fell, covering both people.

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

The Third Installment

_Awake At Last_

Jack's eyes slowly fluttered open, slamming closed again just as quick by the intense pain in the back of his head. His body felt like it was on fire from pain as his coughing settled.

He groaned, not sure of what was happening. The last thing he remembered was the sharp teeth of the Kraken tearing at his flesh and blissful oblivion.

And now he had the distinct feeling of being smothered!

"Oh no," the he heard someone panic as he struggled to get air into his lungs the right way.

Some minutes later the cloth was snatched away and sun again glared down on the pirate captain.

Feeling the slight coolness over him, he assumed the person had made their presence known.

Peeking a dark eye open once more, he saw his attacker, saver, whatever she might be leaning to look at him.

"Sir, sir, can you hear me?" She asked, her voice sounding concerned as she studied his bleary eyes.

He looked up, taking a slight study of his own, something to help keep his mind off of his painful body for the moment.

She was decently pretty, though he had seen better. Her hair a wavy black, how long he couldn't tell because it was back, her eyes a green-brown dominant hazel and her skin a pale complexion all women tried to keep with freckles scattered aimlessly about her face in record of her time in the sun.

But what caught his attention most was what he saw on her head.

He frowned, noting she was wearing _his_ hat. Well, he'd see about that.

He made to stand and reclaim what was his but never made it passed sitting before the pain became almost unbearable as scabbing places were ripped open by his careless movements.

"What has gotten into you," she lectured. "Sir, don't you realize you are injured?"

"Might've crossed me mind," he forced out, mentally rolling his eyes as doing so physically would take too much effort. She was a bright one wasn't she? His voice cracked from lack of use, but it was slowly taking its usual form.

"Could you please lay back down then, sir?"

"Only if you give me back me hat and quite calling me sir. I'm no fop you know. Never did well with foppery and all that."

She frowned, rather liking the hat actually. "Only when you're better…uhm…what should I call you then?"

Jack eyed her, knowing better then to give his name in such a state as he clutched at his middle in hopes of easing his pain. "Smith, John Smith, lassie."

"Tara, Tara Charlton."

"Well Tara…"

"Miss Charlton," she interrupted.

"_Tara_, I find meself in a bit of a bind. See, I'm not exactly sure where I am and what's more, I am still without me hat."

"And manners." She muttered under her breath.

"Three words love," he started, laying back down on his own merit. "Pot, kettle, black. You stole me hat, interrupt me when speaking, and won't even offer a parched man a drink. And your rude enough to point out my lack of manners, which is the ultimate in rudeness." He kept talking, letting it distract his mind from his troubles and pains.

As it was, his heart ached worse then even his body, His beautiful Pearl, she was gone and there was none but Davey Jones who could raise her back. And he highly doubted he'd agree to that again.

"Well, Mr. Smith…"

"John if you will," he interrupted with a smirk.

"John, you are on the Malcilane Island coast, I told you I would give you your hat when you are well again, and here." Tara finished, handing him the canteen which was still half full with water.

"Not exactly what I had in mind." He mumbled, sitting up more carefully this time, and taking a long drink. He took in his surrounding ore carefully this time and seeing no threats settled back against one of the rocks

Tara settled in the sand beside him, watching the man with growing curiosity. She had a million questions bubbling under the surface, but knew they needed to wait.

"I wish I could offer you more, but I didn't know you would awaken so soon, truth be known. Perhaps when I return I can bring you something to eat. You must be famished."

"If that's your plan, but I _will_ be expecting me hat back." He warned.

"Of course. Now if you will excuse me, I should be getting back home. Will you be okay here for a few hours?"

"Might as well be, can't exactly get nowhere at this point." Jack pointed out the obvious.

That settled, Tara nodded her head and began the short walk home, her basket held close to her as she though of what she might need later. Also, with him awake perhaps she could get him to the Inn very soon without suspicion.

Author's note: There you have it—three chapters edited again and the next one on its way. I'm making a goal of ensuring it is as least half as long as this.

Also, to answer a former review question, a few reviewers asked what a fop and foppery was. A fop referred to more gentle social elite aka men in tights and heels and foppery was in reference to how they acted. Truth be known, that is what they called themselves proudly—either fops or dandies.

If it makes anyone feel better, I will not claim to be an expert in the mannerisms of that particular time period but I do try to do at least a bit of research and I know more about the piracy stuff already so I will be on surer ground once I eventually get back to a ship.


	2. RUM!

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor pretend to own anything affiliate with Disney including the POTC characters, as much as that breaks my heart.

Author's Note: This is my first fic as I mentioned before, therefore any and all advice welcome.

Again, I abhor Mary-Sues and guarantee I will never intentionally create one. But if she seems to be taking on that appeal, let know, please.

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Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

The Forth Installment

_RUM!_

As promised, Tara returned at the first available opportunity. As usual, she had with her the basket of dishes and tucked at the bottom as many supplies as it allowed her to carry.

She approached Jack who was leaning against the rocks, mindful of his injuries. There was a look of pure concentration on his face as he stared out into sea. However, the second she was in the area Jack knew. He was never completely off guard, despite what he led everyone to believe.

A drunken smile curved his lips, sober though he might be. That was Captain Jack Sparrow after all. Never let anyone know what they are really working with. There's nothing to use against a man then and always gives him the upper hand. "And again she comes, like the tides. Aren't you getting bored of this?"

"Hardly," She answered back. She sat beside him, placing the basket in front of them. She took a second to smooth out her skirts to ensure nothing showed that shouldn't.

Jack, for his part, examined the basket with curiosity of what it held this time. He was just reaching to remove that top layer to see exactly what it held when her hand grabbed his wrist.

He looked up with a frown, giving her a sharp look. "T'ain't wise woman, grabbing a man like that when he's after something." His smile turned to a smirk at the startled look on her face.

"My name's Tara." She reminded him with a frown, having been off guard when he had spoken in that tone. She had for the time being given up on trying to make him address her in proper terms. That was a fight she would resume another day if at all.

"And are you not also a woman?" He asked smugly, knowing she couldn't deny it.

"As long as you're a conceited ass," she muttered.

"Pirate, actually. Oh, and best watch the mouth lass. People might get the impression you're indecent." He gave her a sarcastic look, letting her take it for what she wished.

"P-pirate?" She blinked and then saw his face. "Don't joke about such things. It's dangerous."

"So is meeting a strange man alone, especially when no one knows you are."

"Spare me your gratitude," she answered him sarcastically. She moved the stuff from the basket, letting him see what was in there after all.

Among the items were two pairs of pants, two shirts, a bottle of rum, some fresh bandages, and some bread, cheese, and small bottle of wine.

"Finally, something agreeable," Jack stated, going straight for the rum.

"Are you hurting that bad?" She asked with a sad look to her eyes.

"Beg pardon?" Jack asked with a blank look, his hand already around the neck of the bottle.

"The rum, I brought it to aid your injury. It'll take out the infection." She replied with her own confusion.

Jack answered her with another blank look. Waste rum… and he had been dry how many days now?! With a snort, he twisted the cork and took a long swallow.

"You ungrateful ass!" Tara growled openly at his attitude. He could have at least just said something.

Jack took another swallow. "Conceited ass actually, remember?" he asked her over the lip of the bottle.

"Fine, do whatever. I was going to keep you company but obviously it's not needed." She stated, standing. Normally such an attitude got her brother to back down and apologize but he just offered her a look that clearly said whatever you want and went back to his drink.

Jack had his rum at the moment, and he needed it. The rest of the world be damned.

"Do as you will then. The food and wine is for you, as are the clothes. I didn't know what would fit so I brought you some of my father's and brother's. If neither works, to bad."

That said, she reloaded her basket and walked into the surf. She didn't bother with the skirts as she knelt, scrubbing the dishes with a vengeance. As soon as she was done she left without a word.

Jack was stilling nursing the bottle. He had a lot to think about still, like how to get back at the inky bastard Davey Jones. No one sank his ship and got away with it. So what if he was more of less the king of the entire ocean?

He was Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?

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And to anyone who read my story, as usual, I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Remember to let me know if she is turning MarySue-ish or to Plain Jane to be interesting.

Also, not exactly as long as I had originally planned, but that seemed like the perfect ending. I'm off to work on the next chapter now.

Last but not least, I hope I did not confuse anyone by still calling him Jack even after he said his name was John. Naturally in dialogue, unless I slip, Tara will call him John. I'm pretty sure almost everyone gets it but I might be writing it a bit awkwardly and if so just let me know and I will try and explain better. ;)

Later!


	3. Gaining Control

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

Disclaimer: Not to sound rude, but this story is five chapters in. In case someone didn't get the hint I in no way, shape or form own Captain Jack Sparrow or any of the other original concepts from POTC: COTBP or DMC.

Again, and I cannot stress this enough, I abhor Mary-Sues and guarantee I will never intentionally create one. But if she seems to be taking on that appeal, let know, please.

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Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

The Fifth Installment

_Gaining Control_

Stubborn and still a bit miffed by his uncaring attitude, Tara paid 'John' no mind the following day. After all, she was going out of her way to be kind to him and all he was being was rude. She took her basket as usual full of dirtied food-ware with a few supplies tucked underneath.

She would clean her items in the surf before she dropped the items for him off with so much as a word, usually a few clean bandages, some food and a bit of water. She would then leave before he had a chance to really say anything.

That lasted for a good number of days after as well.

At first Jack honestly cared less. He understood her kindness well enough and really did appreciate it. It was just that he had more pressing matters to worry over such as slowly healing injuries and a squid-face demon. Granted, they did not hurt now as much as they had prior, they were still tender and easily re-opened.

So he did nothing to change his attitude, taking what was offered.

Well, that was until she made a trend of only offering him water and nothing else. A man could not be expected to live like that! He figured she was giving him water in spite and would loosen up and return with at least a treat of wine now and again, preferably rum. But no! She would rather let a hurt man suffer.

Grumbling under his breath he watched as she finished cleaning after the 8th day since they had last spoke. Of course the way he was leaning against the rocks she had no way of knowing that. His gaze was purposely set that way so he could catch her off guard. He meant to have a word with her.

He waited until she had set everything up as usual and was about to go when he put his large hand around her wrist, the ship earned calluses rough against her skin.

"Tell me you aren't still sulking like a child 'bout this lass," He said as she turned to look at him, clearly having not been expecting his movements. A smirk formed on his lips at the look of fury his words evoked. So she was easily set off, huh? Interesting; she might prove to be a source of entertainment as well. "I mean, all I did really was seek some comfort. I'm a hurt man yes, but a man still. Understand that and understand I need certain things to keep me going and sane. You following me?"

"I certainly hope not," Tara growled, yanking her arm free and stepping back. That was a bit of an uncomfortable advancement for her.

His semi-attempt at a half apology and deliberate double meaning got good enough results for Jack's amusement. The sexual hint had been intended though he wouldn't follow through even if she had agreed, which he highly doubted. It had mainly been there to fluster her if she even got it.

"After all Mr. Smith…"

"John."

"_John_, you are still a stranger to me and even if I had known you for years now I would not act on such a request."

"To offer a man the proper drink he is seeking?" Jack asked, pulling his most confused and innocent look as he feigned to have misunderstood the double meaning. "I'm sorry then, I didn't know it was such an extreme request."

Tara's cheeks turned a pale pink at realizing she was the only one who had picked up the possible sexual meaning. Plus she had just blurted as much out to a man she barely knew! She was such a fool.

"Rum, yes, of course. I just meant that it is uhm- er that is to say that the rum is something hard to acquire since it is noticed when it is missing." She forced out hastily, not even sure if her rushed cover-up even made sense.

There was a gleam in Jack's eyes as his quick-thought plan worked. She now was off her track which meant she would calm down again to cover her embarrassment.

Proper women were so easy to gain a reaction from sometime, he mused.

"Well I had best…" She started, standing again with everything intent of getting home. She had humiliated herself enough already.

"Join a lonely man while he eats a meager, but kind offered meal? Why you are so kind and I would be delighted for the company." He interrupted, leaving her helpless to refuse.

Indeed, she was just as powerless to decline as Jack thought. Even is her family wasn't exactly at the top of the social latter, they were not at the bottom either which made her something of a lady. That meant while she could turn a blind eye at some of the more trivial traditions of society life, she was still overall bound to certain rules. Common courtesy happened to be one of them. Damn.

Reluctantly she took a seat, studying the blanket beneath them. During one of her recent trips if finally occurred to her to bring and leave some sort of fabric to allow him something more to rest on then sand. Her mother had been asking about it but she feigned ignorance. Besides, what was she to say?

_Oh don't worry Mother. I just lent it to the strange man I am seeing daily at the beach!_ She snorted mentally, not likely.

"Wonderful." Jack continued as she sat and offered nothing to the conversation. "So, care to tell me what you meant by noticed when missing? You're not a thief I hope…"

Her blush of course darkened at the self-made insinuation. "Of course not; I was just bringing a few things from home. I could never actually steal something." She continued studying the blanket, beginning to like being with this man less and less.

_This girl is too easy_ Jack mused, pausing long enough to eat some of the meat she had brought. "I see," was all he said in response, letting her take it as she pleased.

"Well surely you believe me. I mean does it seem as though I would or even could steal something?"

"Does it seem like I could?" Jack countered back with a cocked brow, knowing well she couldn't demand an answer from him without giving one first.

Tara looked him over, honestly not wanting to have to answer that. It seemed as though he were trying to walk her into these little word traps she kept stumbling into. "Point taken."

"Course it is. Here's my figuring though. You're always down doing the washing which leads me to believe you are a wench of sorts, bringing me supplies from said work place."

"You make it sound like stealing," she accused.

"Did you pay for it all form your own pockets or ask for it?"

"Not exactly…"

"Sounds like stealing to me then."

"It most certainly is not. I cannot steal from my own father when he offers me all I need and seeing as he is the tavern master..." She replied sharply before she realized what she was saying and covered her mouth quickly. She hadn't meant to tell him that much about herself. I could prove dangerous.

"A tavern you say?" Jack smirk, happy to learn that little detail.

Author's Note: And there you have it, chapter 5. I hope it met expectations and Jack is still in character! Please let me know what you think and remember to be honest ;) . Every little bit helps.

Also, if you are interested, please take a look at my other fic One Last Night – it's a fic about Will's reaction to the end of DMC.

Don't forget to review!


	4. Place Given

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

Disclaimer: Captain Jack Sparrow is not mine sigh I can dream all I want though. That also sadly means the POTC1/2/3 aren't mine either. I do own the throw, folders, posters, actions figures, etc. though!

Again, and I cannot stress this enough, I abhor Mary-Sues and guarantee I will never intentionally create one. But if she seems to be taking on that appeal, let know, please.

Author's Note—a special thanks to Sayla Ragnarok. This is why I love reviewers. They are very encouraging and they help point out my mistakes. This particular reviewer asked me wouldn't Jack be sick due to his injuries? My answer is yes and I completely overlooked that small detail. Thanks for pointing that out to me.

I am going to incorporate by doing this. We are going to say that Jack, stubborn man that he is, has been feverish but refused to acknowledge it, much less tell someone and build on it from there. It seems much easier on everyone then backtracking the chapters and editing them for that particular detail.

Also, **_THANKS SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED!!_** hugs you guys are wonderful, especially you guys who have been there since chapter one! You are the best!

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Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

The Sixth Installment

_Place Given_

"Yes, a tavern. But please, think nothing of it. After all it really is just a family business."

"And probably a means of financial stability to your family," Jack pointed out as he thought over the new found information. Family business meant he could get into more comfortable surroundings and the means to figure out his situation better. If he could learn more about this place save the coast's name he could figure out a way to get back where he needed to be…wherever that was.

That and maybe he would be able to sleep on something a bit softer then rocks and a thin blanket. The present combination did absolutely nothing for his body aches from the wounds not to mention the headaches. '_Good thing it's usually hot out here too or I might freezing,'_ he thought, seeing as he remained hot usually. Oddly enough he had expected the tides to chill the night but no such luck. '_Oh well, one thing to think on later,'_ he dismissed it easily enough. He had bigger fish to fry for now.

"Well yes, seeing as it is Papa's occupation then I suppose so." Tara answered, knowing there was no point denying anything after her first words and confirmation on the subject.

"How about that," He commented, meaning to get the idea into her head that he should be taken there instead of left on the beach, "though enough about it since you basically said you didn't want to get into it. Pleasant weather we're having isn't it?"

"Why yes, it happily warm in the day and cool at night. It makes living here livable actually."

"Because it's so terrible?"

"No, I just mean seeing as I have to go out everyday it is pleasant to have good weather and not freeze or burn up."

"Yeah, guess it would be though I have to disagree with one point. During the day, when stuck in one spot for long periods of time that is, it becomes kind of hot and a quick change at night…" He trailed off, shaking his beaded head. "Well, never mind that. What were you saying before?"

"Nothing really, I was just responding to your comment," she answered him, thinking over his words. "You injuries are making you uncomfortable I the elements then?"

"Don't worry over me lass. I'm a strong man and take care of meself. You've done so much I already. I would hate to trouble you more."

"Well, I mean, they need to get well. If they are worsening because of the sand or something…"

"But you'd have nothing to do with me or take me, as it were. The beach is fine and the shade helps a good bit. I'll be fine unless it rains and look at that," he said, using exaggerated motion of his hands to point into the horizon upon the sea. "Nothing but clear skies that way."

"Storms can come so suddenly."

"I've noticed. But like I said, it's clear now and maybe this clothe will keep me dry. If not I am in need of a bath."

"And you'll catch your death. Maybe I could, uhm…" She bit her lip, hesitant of her next words. Did she really want to promise this man a place at her father's tavern? Of course there were a few rooms upstairs as it was not uncommon for paying customers to stay the night, but still…

"Could what then?" Jack asked her in a bored tone as though not expecting any kind of offer from her.

"I don't suppose you have any money on you, Mr. Smith?"

"I was a drowning man. What need had I of a purse to weight me down?"

"Of course. How foolish I am to have assumed anything else. You must just be happy to be alive and here, not even a fortnight yet, and I am giving you pains over this. It's just that I was thinking perhaps you could stay at my father's tavern for a short while." She was about to add more when he interrupted her.

"What a grand idea. That way I could mend there and not be in your way. My but you are a clever girl," He smiled, her name escaping him at the moment. '_Sarah, Kera…something. Oh well' _he mentally shrugged

What mattered now was he got what he wanted.

Author's Note: And chapter 6 as promised, on time and everything! Lol.

Somehow I'm a little disappointed in this chapter. Anyone else feel that it wasn't as good? Or perhaps that's just me.

Also, if you are interested, please take a look at my other fic One Last Night – it's a fic about Will's reaction to Elizabeth at the end of DMC. So far it is a W/E pairing though what will happen is going to happen and even I don't know yet. I just sit down to type and what ends up on the page is the result, same as here.

Don't forget to review!


	5. Introducing Mr Smith

Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

Disclaimer: Captain Jack Sparrow is not mine sigh I can dream all I want though. That also sadly means the POTC1/2/3 aren't mine either. I do own the throw, folders, posters, actions figures, etc. though!

Again, and I cannot stress this enough, I abhor Mary-Sues and guarantee I will never intentionally create one. But if she seems to be taking on that appeal, let know, please.

Author's Note— You might be interested to know I have figured out how this story will end and I guarantee it is perfectly in the character of our beloved Captain Jack Sparrow. Of course that is a long was from now but I thought that might be of interest to someone.

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Welcome Back, Jack Sparrow

The Seventh Installment

_Introducing Mr. Smith_

Mentally, Tara was heavily protesting the very idea. She could never pull it off! However, the off had been extended and he had accepted. What more could she do then follow through?

She looked back at him, glad now that he had been forced to change clothes. He seemed somewhat more presentable that way. His face could use some more cleaning, but the surf could deal with that as far as water needed. All that left was his hair...

"And what's in that head of yours?" Jack asked, noting how she was studying his head. He looked up to see if there was anything worth examining. Nope.

Tara shook her head, realizing he had noticed her staring. I'm sorry, I was just thinking on the best way to get you to the tavern. It's just that I cannot simply say I found you on the beach and have been aiding you for the past several days. I am afraid my family might no understand."

"As they shouldn't; you are a mindless girl who did a stupid act and while it was kind and I certainly can't complain, you were a fool for doing it. For all you know I might have robbed you."

"Then why haven't you by now? After all, you have had the chance, not that I carried much with me." She provided smartly.

"And if I decided to rape you?"

Tara blushed at the studied her hands as she answered. "Then you would have already done that."

"None sense. If I was planning on doing anything I would wait until you had done all you could for me and then taken your body." Jack said as a matter of factly, leaning back more comfortably now as he mindless argued. He felt dizzy now for some reason he couldn't place. That fact aggravated him as it seemed to be happening frequently nowadays and for the last few.

Wide eyed, she stood from her position on the blanket and backed away. "You wouldn't dare!" She half told, half asked him.

Jack, who had closed his eyes, cracked one open to look at her, "Why not, lass? Seems like a fine plan to me." His face remained completely impassive.

"You are a brute," she huffed, deciding his was playing. If nothing else she could still provide him with more, or at least that's what she tried to convince herself of. She was more unnerved by the comment then she cared to admit. "And I do not find you manner of humor funny."

"Who said anything about trying to amuse you?"

"Oh you…you…."

"Pirate," He provided, his tone the as-a-matter-of-fact type.

"Oh do not even start that again." He had already insulted her today by calling her a fool and now he was being almost vulgar with his manner of talking.

"Whatever you say, love."

"Now I am going. I must get home but come tomorrow I will have a more sure plan to get you to the inn. Please do try not to do anything harmful or stupid while I am away, Mr. Smith."

Jack just waved her away, not even taking the time to reply as his dizziness gave way to a headache. His plan had worked like a dream and still he was not having a good day.

Damn it all, this was Davy Jones's fault. If he hadn't chased him and just let him be none of this would be happening. He would be where he belonged, on his precious Pearl and being his regular piratey self.

But no! He was stuck on some damnable bit of land depending on some woman to aid him. _If I ever get my hands on that slimy, maniacal sea dredge I would show him what damned to the depths really mean. He'll be lucky if he ever wants to see water again when I'm done with him.'_ Jack mentally swore.

With a groan, he covered his eyes with his hand. He had been feeling off for a few days now and it seemed to be getting worse. He looked down for a moment at the untouched food and just covered his eyes again, suddenly not feeling like downing anything.

Tara, meanwhile, made her way home. She was still a bit anxious about her talked with John, but knew there was nothing she could do about it and figured it was all in bad humor. "Or bad taste," she muttered to herself.

She walked into the tavern through the back door, not surprised to see her mother in the middle of preparing a batch of meat pies. "Glad to see you didn't get lost, Tara, darling. I was beginning to think you might have drowned."

"Nonsense Mama, I was just doing the…" She paused, realizing she had left them at the beach, "Oh no, no, no, no." She groaned.

Her Mama stopped, hand covered in the ingredient of her work at her daughter's pause, "Something the matter?"

"I, well…" Tara bit her lip, not really wanting to admit what had happened. It was bad enough she lost dishes from time to time in the surf, but to leave the entire basket!

"Well?" Mama prompted.

"I left the dishes on the beach. I was…" She shrugged helplessly, not sure of what excuse she could use. Thankfully she was given more time by the offered response.

Brows furrowed, the older woman frowned at her daughter. "You left the dishes? Tara," she sighed. "That is so irresponsible. When you were a child that was acceptable but now you are grown. You should know better."

"Yes Mama, I do. I just got distracted. I'm sorry."

"Just pray they aren't stolen and get them quick. We'll discuss the rest later." She answered, shaking her had and going back to her work. _'Really, that child',_ she mused. She didn't know what to do.

"You mean now?" Tara asked, not really wishing to see John again so soon, especially after there last conversation.

"Well of course now. You were the one that left them. Besides, it's nearing dark so the faster you go and get back, the more light you'll have to work with. Dishes are expensive in a group that large and someone might steal them before you could get back tomorrow." She was lectured. "I would send one of your brothers with you but they are helping your father and Madeline is too little to be wondering this late. Now off with you."

Reluctantly, Tara nodded and headed back out the door. Her father would be furious if the dishes got stolen, though she highly doubted they would, being in safe company and all. Surely no one would steal something with a man sitting there.

After some minutes of walking she was back at the beach. The whole while there she thought of the entire John/Tavern situation.

John, much to her relief, appeared to have drifted into sleep.

She moved quickly, picking up the basket. Just as she was about to leave, a voice caught her attention.

"Just couldn't stand to be away from me, aye lass?" Jack teased her, having been half asleep and welcoming the distraction to his apparent illness. He had been at sea most of his life so hiding and ignoring a bit of sickness came pretty easy by now.

Rolling her eyes, Tara turned to look at him. "What can I say? You just seem to draw me to you. Something I can offer you, Mr. Smith?"

"Tend to have that affect on people, don't feel so special. As for offer, a real bed would be nice or at least a hammock."

"I am working on that actually. I had some ideas, but they don't seem to work quite right."

"What's difficult? Lead the way and I'll follow."

"And say what that I found you on the be…" She paused, having been running some of her ideas through her head and suddenly a smirk appeared on her lips. "Mr. Smith, I do believe I have a plan. Better still, it's so simple I feel like a fool for no think about it before."

"Well then, let's hear it. I've got things to be doin' you know."

"Like sitting on a beach?" She asked, glad for once to have the upper hand.

"Exactly like that. It's hard work doing that all day you know."

"You are infuriating, do you know that? I mean really, can nothing insult you?"

"Could you get back to the plan?" Jack countered, not in the mood the play word games any longer.

"Fine, back to the plan then; I was thinking perhaps you could prove yourself of a rescuer."

"Come again?" Jack asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well, I left my dishes here, as I am sure you might have noticed. I had to return for them, which is all obviously truth. Who is to say someone did now find them and attempt to take them? After all, they are a good set and while not highly valuable, to the right kind of man anything and be sold for a profit, especially when it starts free."

"So if I were to have said wondered by when said someone was taking what weren't theres and you happened on the scene…"

"I can bring you back to the tavern. Of course there will have to be a bit more to the story then that but I can worry about it then."

Jack nodded his approval to the plan. If it worked, it worked. If not, it was on her head. He still had a place to stay that was sheltered. That sounded grand to him. "So when do we leave?"

"Now would be great. The sooner we get home the better off this.

"Seems to me waiting a few extra minutes will add to the believability of the story," Jack felt the need to add. That and it would give him a few minutes to prep himself for the trip, however long it might be.

"That's…a very good point, actually." She conceded. "Well then, uhm, just let me know when you are ready, alright?'

"Can do."

"Good," Tara said before she walked to the surf, kicking off her shoes and wading in a few feet. She liked the feel of the water. Somehow it calmed her whenever she was upset and gave her a sense of adventure whenever she was bored.

It was something she was just raised with, she supposed, so it was very much a part of her life. She had lived in the tavern near this beach as long as she could remember.

Jack, in the meanwhile, laid his head back and closed his eyes to brace back the ache there. It was really starting to annoy him.

After some ten minutes had passed, he made himself stand and draw her attention. "We best be moving out now, don't want to over do it."

Tara turned, nodding her head as she walked back onto the beach. Rinsing her feet in the cool water, she slipped her shoes back on and went back to where Jack stood, picking up her basket.

"Are you sure your injuries are up to this?"

"What's in a walk, eh? I'm John Smith after all."

"Have it your way then, Mr. Smith."

Jack nodded his head and with a slow pace the two made it back to the tavern.

Tara paused for a few minutes, trying to convince herself tat they would actually succeed in the little lie. Hopefully…

Jack took the reprieve to lean against the wall, not saying anything to encourage her into the building or remain out. Like to admit it or no, the walk had made his back start aching worse then it had in a few days; probably because of the muscle use seeing as he hadn't been waling much formally.

He was prepping himself as well for the unfamiliar surroundings. In case of emergency, or worse recognition, he needed to be able to note the exits and possible threats as soon as that door was open.

"Alright Mr. Smith, it's time to show you to the family." Tara finally said with a breath as she opened the door.

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Author's note: For taking forever to get this out and for the lacking in the last chapter I made it longer. ;) I hope everyone enjoyed it.

Please remember to review and let me know what you think! I am especially concerned about keep Jack in character. Let me know how I am doing,

Thanks and Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!!! Well, technically it's a day late, but oh well.


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